


Got Your Six

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Nice Guy (TM), Protective Bucky Barnes, bucky to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: Bucky's in full broody mode as he recovers from his time with HYDRA. Darcy comes to New York for a visit. She does not need a knight in shining armor, but Barnes is all right nonetheless.





	Got Your Six

For a bunch of superheroes, the Avengers can be remarkably boring. It doesn’t surprise Darcy that Jane and Doctor Banner opt out when she suggests a team outing to a nightclub while she and Jane are in town, but it’s a little more pathetic that of the group of them she only manages to get Sam, Clint, Steve, and his perpetual Winter Shadow to come along. And once they get there, the boys end up claiming a corner table and a pitcher of beer, completely uninterested in the dance floor no matter how much Darcy tries to cajole them. Worst than Jane, honest to God. She almost wishes she’d brought Ian along to New York—at least he could be dragged wherever she wants to put him.

After a few songs and a cocktail, Darcy finally gives up on the dull squad and bops towards the center of the floor alone, joining a healthy mass of people under the colorful lights. The DJ’s pretty sweet, definitely better than anything she’d find either near Culver campus or in most of the places they end up camping out for research purposes, if not quite up to London standards, and the scene is mostly thirty-somethings, not an obnoxious college crowd. She makes eye contact with a few cute boys, even if she doesn’t exactly dance _with_ anyone, and gets to watch another couple of cute boys make out with each other right in the center of the floor. It’s a fairly even mix of gay and straight, and Darcy wonders in the back of her mind whether poor Cap is going to need a debrief later. Then again, Steve’s more savvy than he looks about a lot of things. He’s pleasantly surprised her that way more than once.

When she gets thirsty, and a little sweatier than ideal, Darcy shoulders her way through the crowd to its edge, ducking under raised arms and around gyrating bodies until she makes it to the bar and finds a spot under an air-conditioning vent. Most people are ordering from the tap, but there’s a slim leather-bound cocktail menu, and she runs her finger down it, squinting her way through the lists of ingredients without her glasses when someone slides in next to her.

“Get you one of those?” a deep male voice offers, nudging the cocktail menu. She looks up—and then up some more—to a charming smile and quite a head of wavy brown hair.

“Maybe,” Darcy concedes with a smaller smile of her own. “Can you read this font?”

He laughs and takes the menu from her. “What’s your poison? Fruity, chocolatey, minty?”

“Mm… is there anything coffee-y?”

“You’re in luck.” Tall dark and handsome flags down the bartender and orders something she doesn’t quite hear, along with a beer for himself. “Sounds high caf and creamy.”

She laughs. “I’m really mad that I can’t get from there to a dirty joke on my own right now.”

“Shame. Devin,” he offers his hand, and she maybe giggles just a tiny bit when he kisses hers. Possibly a _tiny_ bit buzzed from that first cocktail, but the night is youngish.

“Darcy. Thanks for the drink.”

“Ah, well, taste it first, then decide whether to thank me,” he suggests. The bartender is pouring something pale brown and indeed fairly creamy looking into a martini glass, so Darcy waits for her to finish the garnishes before she says anything else. The first sip is pleasantly alcoholic, tastes strongly of espresso, and isn’t too sweet.

“Thanks warranted,” she nods, her face gone serious, and Devin just grins.

“So you from around here, Darcy?”

She wiggles a hand from side-to-side, shrugging. “Not far from here, originally, but I’ve never actually lived in New York. I’m visiting friends.”

“Ah, I’ve got lucky timing, then.”

“Damn right,” she smiles and takes another sip of her buzzy cocktail. He’s quite a looker, and she finds herself giggling more than she really means to as they chat. He’s a native New Yorker, in some kind of finance business, which she doesn’t understand enough to ask questions about, and likes punk music. Nearing the bottom of her glass, she’s about to ask him if he wants to dance when he leans in, closer to her ear, and rests a hand on her upper arm.

“Wanna get out of here, then?”

“Oh! Actually, I’m with friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”

“Eh, they’ll be fine. C’mon, I’m only ten blocks from here, we can leg it.”

She gives him an apologetic smile, but shakes her head. “I think I’d rather just dance, okay? That’s what I came here for.”

Devin pauses for a moment, then frowns. “You sure? I’m pretty sure I read your signals right…”

“Yeah…” _Oh God, signals. What do they even teach in boy school these days?_ “How bout a dance?”

“No, come on, it’s loud in here. We could go out in the alley, just talk…”

Darcy frowns. “We’ve _been_ talking.”

“Right, but you know… talking, or…” His smile goes broader, a bit of a leer, and she sighs, stepping a half-step back. _And he had seemed so nice._

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go find my friends. Thanks for the drink.”

“Hey.” He steps closer again, his grip tightening and his other hand coming up to grab her other arm. “Don’t just walk away. I saw you looking at my mouth for the last ten minutes. I’m not thick.”

Darcy glares at him. “Yeah, well _I’m_ not interested anymore. Let go,” she snaps, letting her voice go sharper and tugging a bit against his grip. She just needs a little more leeway to get to the taser in her purse…

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, sweetheart. Just a little…”

Whatever he’s about to say, Darcy really doesn’t care, but it’s quickly cut off by another body shouldering past her and a second man getting up in Devin’s face. She’s a little offended by someone deciding she needs a knight in shining armor even before she realizes it’s Barnes, of all people, coming to her rescue. And that’s remarkable enough that she doesn’t actually say anything in response, staring at the man as the grip on her arms suddenly goes lax. She hasn’t known him long, but according to the other Avengers the ex-assassin’s silence is pretty much perpetual. He averages five or six words a day, and yes, he is in fact always that “blank and loomy,” Darcy, give the man a break. He’s in recovery, they explain, and she gets that. She’d probably be pretty blank, too, after seventy years of torture and a life now full of strangers and therapy sessions. But here he is, nearly nose-to-nose with Devin the Dickwad and, miracle of miracles, speaking.

"Feel that against your thigh?” Barnes’ voice is low and rough, and Darcy can barely hear it, but something about him makes Dickwad shut up anyway, releasing her arms entirely. “That's a switchblade, only four inches, but sharpened this morning. In a man your size, the femoral artery is less than three inches under the skin…” Darcy’s eyes widen as she sees his shoulder shift just a bit, and oh fuck, she really hopes she doesn’t have to witness a murder tonight. “ ...here. You're not going to say a word, and you're going to leave. Nod if you understand."

Devin, at least, is smart enough to nod, and the moment Barnes gives him a bit of space, he hurries for the exit without even looking at Darcy. She stands there, stunned, for a moment, before throwing back what’s left of her drink.  
  
"Um... thanks." She looks up at Barnes, a little wary, and he just nods. She tilts her head, observing him. "You didn't have to do that, though."

He shrugs. It’s funny, he’s actually not dressed all that unlike Dickwad, leather jacket and jeans, but his hair is much longer, and his eyes significantly more hollow. Still, she trusts Barnes at least twice as far as he can throw her earlier suitor. She’s seen him around Steve. "I don't like it when people pick on people who can't defend themselves," he says after a moment, and she huffs, reaching into her purse to brandish her taser.

"I've got this." His eyebrows lift a little, and he looks at it, then back at her, and after a second there’s just the barest hint of a smile. "Oh, shut up." Still tipsy, she’s affectionate enough to shove him a bit with her shoulder as she tucks the taser back into her purse, which is satisfying even if he doesn’t shift an inch. "Not everyone's _you_. This thing usually works, I just needed another minute to get to it." He looks at her, considering, and is silent for a while. She’s about to suggest that they head back to the table when he speaks again.

"Use it much?"

Darcy shrugs. "Not really. A few times."

"Good." Barnes looks her up and down, measuring but not with any heat in it. "Next time, grab here and twist." Before she knows what he’s doing, he grabs her free hand and clamps it firmly on his arm. "No hesitation. Quick, decisive movement."

“Huh. Cool.” She beams up at him. “I think I might get thrown out of the bar if I try it on you now, though. Gym? In the morning?”

He blinks. “Don’t you have… Thor?”

“Meh. He doesn’t actually know any cool moves for someone my size. He just barrels into everyone and swings his hammer around. Like… his actual hammer,” she clarifies, grinning and moving her eyes quite obviously down to her crotch and back up. He stares at her disbelieving for a long moment, which she’s used to, admittedly, from guys. But then he gives her a quick, firm nod.

“Nine o clock. I’ll bring Natasha.”

“Aww, man, nine _am_? But the party’s just getting started…” She thinks she catches the tiniest eye roll, but he just drops a hand to her back and leads the way back to their friends.


End file.
